


Ghost in the Machine

by InsaniaTorn



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gritty, Heavy Petting, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, Vaginal Sex, non-canon elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5405516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaniaTorn/pseuds/InsaniaTorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A world gone mad.</p><p>One woman has walked out of Vault 111 and now, she must find a way to carry on. Bearing the loss of her husband and the abduction of her son, Aaliyah Bennett finds that though her life has been tainted with tragedy - hope still remains. That hope lies within eyes of the settlers that see her as a leader, it's present in the Minutemen who look to her as their General, and it's written all over the face of the man who sees her as his new home.</p><p>From the quaint beginnings of the new Sanctuary to the cold steel of the Prydwen, there is a fight to be had. A fight for survival .</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Longest and the Darkest Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's my first fic on AO3! I've taken such a long break from writing fanfiction, so I hope you all like it. I'm still in the middle of exams, but writing has really been such a good outlet. I admit, I haven't had much time long-term with Fallout 4 (the joys of being in your final year at university), so I can't promise this is going to be an iron-clad lore-friendly story. 
> 
> The title of the chapter comes from the lyrics of 'Where Greater Men Have Fallen' by Primordial, while the title of the overall fic comes from 'Remnants' by Grendel.

Codsworth had managed to make a bed out of salvaged mattresses from the neighbours’ houses. He drifted fretfully around as a shell-shocked Aaliyah Bennett studied what was left of her home.

“How did this happen, Codsworth?” she sounded like she had a bad head cold.

If the robot had hands to wring, he probably would have. “I’m so sorry, mum.”

The night felt like it lasted for weeks. Sleep was fleeting; every time she seemed to be drifting off, she could hear him. Nate fighting to hold on to their son.

The gunshot.

Then she’d bolt upright, eyes burning and her entire body shaking. Her tears had run out since she’d left the Vault. Codswoth would helpfully offer her a centuries old Nuka Cola, as there was no coffee or tea left.

Aaliyah almost wished that she had died in the Vault too. There was a heavy weight in her chest that wouldn’t let up; the loss of her husband and her son was almost too much to bear. Nate was gone forever, and Shaun was lost somewhere in the broken vestiges of the world. How long had she been asleep since he was taken? Would he be a child? Scared, alone and barely scraping an existence? Or would the wasteland have claimed his life?

Dealing with it all…it seemed like the weight of her loss would crush her. She curled up, hugging herself, trying to will her brain to just _stop_ thinking. When dawn broke, she met it hollow-eyed and despondent. She clambered down to the stream to wash the vestiges of dried tears from her face, and to quickly cleanse herself. The howl of the wind through the trees was empty and lonely. The worn, homemade handgun that she’d found rooting through the ruins was held loosely in her hand as she told Codsworth that she would explore some of the surrounding areas. He offered to go with her, but she waved him off.

A small part of her wondered if dying out there would be such a bad thing, but a pang of guilt forced it down. She needed to find Shaun, and though he was a machine, she couldn’t abandon poor Codsworth again either. The appearance of the ragged, dirty man over the bridge took her by surprise. His startled yell broke her out of her reverie, and the sound of gunshots sent adrenaline coursing through the former soldier.

Her shooting skills may have been two centuries rusty, but it didn’t show. Her training kicked in as though she’d been on the battlefield just yesterday, and with the sound of blood rushing in her ears, she took cover and placed a shot right through the man’s eye socket. She’d killed men during the war before, but never up close. Her bomber would scream through the air at eye-watering speeds, thoroughly eviscerating the land and life below her. The knowledge that she had taken lives she’d never seen from up on high was always difficult to come to terms with, but this man in front of her was different. Shooting him seemed to make him far more real.

Approaching the fallen body with caution, she kicked his gun away before checking his vitals. With his brains leaking onto the cracked asphalt, it was obvious that he was dead, but she wouldn’t have felt right otherwise. He was young, probably only a few years older than she, with dark, matted hair and a scruffy beard that covered half of his otherwise dirt-crusted face. She took shallow breaths through the bloody air as she gingerly but thoroughly rifled through his things. Her empty stomach protested at the sight and smell of blood and viscera and soon, she found herself breaking away to vomit bile into the nearby bushes.

Who was this man? Was the world so fractured that it was every person for themselves? He hadn’t shown a moment of hesitation. He saw her, and instantly took the decision that she was better off dead. Aaliyah shook her head slightly, willing herself to push those thoughts aside for now. The man had been wearing makeshift armour and had been carrying some ammo for his worn out gun. In his pockets, there was a packet of cigarettes and a few bottle caps, but little else. Who carries around bottlecaps? If it was important enough for this man to hold on to, perhaps they would be of some import to her as well. He carried around an empty backpack that no doubt she’d find useful, so she placed her salvaged items in it and slung it over her own shoulder. The armour was made of sturdy leather, and with some tinkering, the pieces would probably fit over her own vault suit.

She puzzled over what to do with the corpse. Leaving him out in the open seemed like a disgusting and disrespectful prospect. The cool air would slow decomposition, but he’d be a bloated mess within the next day. As selfish as it sounded, she would hate having to pass that every time she took a step outside of her neighbourhood. To think, she had reduced a human being to a mere inconvenience. Was this what life on the front lines was like for Nate? This detachment? The thought brought a pang of longing for her husband, but she pushed it down. He would be proud of her if she showed grit and purpose. This was probably what he had to live through as she took the fight to their enemies from a safe height. If he could do it, so could she.

Making a mental note to ask Codsworth for his help in disposing of the unfortunate wanderer later on, she took a cleansing breath and kept walking. The trickle of the nearby stream gave the surroundings an air of absurd serenity. Ruins were visible from all sides, yet nature seemed at peace with itself. Funny, how mankind brought about its own demise, yet Mother Nature simply grew around the remains.

The Red Rocket station down the street was surprisingly still standing. A shadowy movement out of the corner of her eye sent Aaliyah reaching for the gun again, but a familiar, pining whimper brought a smile to her face. A large German Shepard slunk forward from the service station, his ears back and his tail tucked between his legs. Large, brown eyes looked piteously up at her.

 “Hey boy,” she grinned, holding out her free hand. Her heart ached to see the fear in the gentle boy’s face.

 He slowly made his way up to her and allowed her to pet him.

 “Where’s your owner?” she asked, looking around warily. He gave a whine and peppered her face with kisses. “Friendly, aren’t you? Do you want to come with me then?”

The dog gave another whine in reply. Probably asking for more cuddles, and less talking.

“Come on, let’s take a look around.”

She straightened up, and proceeded to carefully go over everything that was left in the abandoned station. There were a few bottles of water that would no doubt be valuable, as well as an ancient packet of Fancy Lads snack cakes. She opened the box to find them stale, but palatable. Those must have been _some_ preservatives. There were some loose bolts and scrap wood, but she’d have to leave those behind for now.

The dog gave a growl that made her bolt upright, gun at the ready. What was that screeching noise? She saw small, growling masses erupt from the dirt outside, and as the dog lunged for one, Aaliyah darted from the service station to help him. The growling mounds turned on her as she came within their reach, and she kicked one off her boot as it lunged. She’d have to be careful or she’d end up shooting herself or the dog. The dog snarled as it pounced on one of them, his fangs tearing into the hairless pink flesh.

“Mole rats?” Aaliyah’s incredulous voice was drowned out by the battle around her. Taking aim, she shot at the rat diving for the dog’s throat. It fell limply to the ground, and silence pervaded again. Aaliyah called her new companion over and looked him over carefully for any wounds. He was wearing a loose rope collar with a crude tag.

“Dogmeat?” Aaliyah asked. “Who’d call you that?”

The dog gave a little huff and wagged his tail impatiently.

“Is that your name? Dogmeat?”

The dog’s ears perked up and he whined, marching a little with his two front paws. She let him go and he ventured over to the mole rat he killed and began ripping little pieces off.

“So, that’s lunch, huh? Great.”

Aaliyah took the other rat up by its hind leg. It was easily about fifteen pounds. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers. If only Nate could see her now. Smiling slightly, Aaliyah could faintly hear the sound of his laughter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made Aaliyah a veteran as well, because I wasn't too fond of the lawyer backstory that the game gave her. I always pictured my first Fallout character as a veteran, so I was *most* disappointed to find that this only canonically applied to the male SS.


	2. How the Years Condemn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Well, finals are through, so I can finally begin working on this more often. The title of this chapter is a song from the band Napalm Death (and I find it particularly fitting for this series). Fair warning if you've never heard of them or have never checked them out - they're grindcore, and they're *loud*.

“Are you all set, mum?” Codsworth asked as Aaliyah checked both of the sidearms that she had collected.

“I should be fine; Concord isn’t too far. Hopefully I won’t get the welcome that you did,” she gave a weak smile. Her arms vaguely ached from burying the man that she’d killed yesterday.

“Ah, they’ll see you and think twice before they even _dare_ confront you like that.”

The robot had carefully packed her a bag of roasted leftover mole rat, purified water and some ratty bandages that he’d found in one of the adjacent houses. There was enough food for Dogmeat as well; the canine in question was sitting in the doorway and looking outside, his tail wagging lazily.

“We’ll be back soon,” she placed a reassuring hand on Codsworth’s cold metal plating as they left.

He whizzed around with an invigorated sense of purpose. “I will hold down the fort most dutifully!”

* * *

 

The swirling winds dusted up a few dead leaves into tiny tornados in the street; mailboxes lay ajar, their doors creaking as they waved, adding to the brittle whistle of the air making its way through the ruined wooden townhouses. It was serene, but still quite disconcerting. The world looked as though it had just _stopped_. Aaliyah checked in a few of the houses, finding little but old garbage and sometimes even older bones. It hit her with a thrill every time she saw one.

In the two hundred or so years that she’d been gone, were these once people that she’d known? Faces smiling and nodding politely as they passed one another in the supermarket, or waving good morning on their way to work. In that time, perhaps those remains had gone…perhaps these were newer, likewise unfortunate tenants. Dogmeat sniffed at each home they entered, passively looking over as she rifled through dusty shelves and broken furniture. They’d encountered what she could only describe as giant mosquitoes on the way into the area; had she not been a good shot, she could only imagine what sort of damage those things could have done. Man really had done a number on the world, and it was almost baffling to see the ways in which it had responded in kind.

She found another box of bottle caps, which she stowed in her bag as well. It was still beyond her as to why people were collecting them, but if they mattered somehow, it couldn’t hurt. There was a box of sugar bombs beside some pork and beans in an old fridge; tucking them both into her backpack, she sighed. Nate had loved the stuff. He would look over the nutrition section and wryly comment about how much he’d regret his diabetes when he got older, and then proceed to eat it straight out of the pack like a messy, excited toddler.

“I’m artificially sweetened,” he would grin, usually before he pecked her on the cheek and left a small dusting of powdered sugar there. She would complain and he’d laugh. “Hey, enjoy it while it lasts! A kiss after you stab me with an insulin shot won’t be _nearly_ as cute.”

Dogmeat whined and nosed her hand as she sniffed audibly. Nate would never have to worry about that now would he? He would never have to worry again. In a sick twisted thought, she was almost grateful that he had been the one to perish; she would never put him through this. If she had died, and he was out here, in what was left of their home, looking for their son…

“I miss him,” she said, patting the concerned dog. His ears tucked back and he tilted his head slightly into her hand. “He would’ve liked you. We always wanted a dog.”

Dogmeat’s hindleg scratched at empty air as she found a sweet spot behind his ear. Feeling the tears welling up, she just sat there, scratching the dog and trying very hard not to think.

The distant sound of gunfire rang out. 

Aaliyah got up stiffly, taking out the gun she’d lifted from the man that confronted her outside of Sanctuary. It was the better of the two: an actual 10mm pistol that seemed to be in good working order, despite its age.

She moved slowly against the wall, the gun in a teacup grip; Dogmeat seemed to sense her trepidation, and kept out of sight. Easing out of the house, she scanned the street for people. No one was visible, but the muffled shots rang out again. They seemed to be coming from quite a distance away. Aaliyah moved down the street, keeping to the shadows. There was a light outside of what she remembered to be the Speakeasy; she opened the door warily, leading with her gun-hand. The inside was almost completely caved in at certain areas, and a quartet of skeletons was propped up in repose on nearby couches. Someone had even placed a cigar between the teeth of one of the skulls. It would have been comical had it not been just a tad disturbing.

There was a suitcase on the old bar, and upon inspection, it held an oddly clean, intact dress. It was doubtful that the dress was two centuries old, so someone had been in fairly recently. She stowed the dress and found that she was beginning to run out of space. Looking over at Dogmeat, she smiled a little.

“We need to get you a backpack.”

There were more shots, this time accompanied by yelling. Moving over to the window, she could see a man atop the old museum calling frantically down at the street. The figure he seemed to be yelling at fell, and others that she could barely make out from the smudged glass disappeared through the large double doors. Someone else joined the man on the balcony; she heard above the din of gunfire the plaintive yell of “They’re going to kill us all!”

Making a split-second decision, Aaliyah exited the Speakeasy and went into the street, gun aloft. The man glanced up and spotted her, almost aiming his own rifle before he gave a pause.

“I don’t know who you are, but I’ve got a group of settlers inside! The raiders are almost at the door. Grab that laser musket and help us, please!” he called frantically.

Soldier instincts again took hold, and she nodded. The body of the man he’d been talking to before was still warm on the street. The laser musket was loose in his hands, and his pockets were full of fusion cells. Hefting the rifle, she got a quick feel for the handle and trigger; she hadn't fired a laser rifle since she’d been in training, and she’d never even seen a laser musket before. She took a deep breath, and opened the double doors, hoping that she wouldn’t fail these people like she failed her family.

* * *

Many more dead bodies and a homicidal giant lizard later, Aaliyah was inside of the museum again, talking to the survivors of what apparently used to be quite a sizeable group. Preston Garvey, the man who beckoned her in to help seemed generally soft-spoken, but quite grateful. The survivors, save for the elderly Mama Murphy and Sturges were still quite shell-shocked. For that matter, so was she.

“That was a pretty amazing display. I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Aaliyah exited the power armour. “What in the world was that _thing_?”

“Deathclaw,” Preston said, almost smiling. “You really aren’t from around here, are you?”

Sturges seemed to eye her suspiciously. “Who doesn’t know what a deathclaw is? Where’ve you been?”

“Hey, calm down,” Preston glanced over at the man, his voice maintaining its usual cool tone. “She saved our hides, remember? Besides, look at that suit.” He turned to Aaliyah again. “You’re a vault dweller, am I right?”

“I was,” she nodded. “I’ve been…out for a while. A long, long time.”

Sturges blinked. “What?”

“She’s from a time almost unblemished. The sparks of chaos fell upon them all, and they waited in ice and steel,” Mama Murphy said in a carrying murmur. “A little one, carried off like salvage. A life lost before it could begin again.”

Aaliyah felt the back of her eyes burn. She was talking about Shaun…and Nate. But how could she have known?

“A time almost unblemished?” Sturges scoffed. “What, you were around before the war?”

Aaliyah simply gave him a look and his jaw dropped.

“How is that possible?” Preston asked. “I understand we may be prying, but we’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

“I…we were frozen. Everyone was put into cryogenic pods,” Aaliyah explained slowly. “I was the only one who walked out of there.”

“Your family was in there too?”

“Yes, my husband and my son. Nate is dead, and I don’t know where my boy is,” she managed to keep her tone clear, though tears threatened to fall in scalding rivulets down her face.

“Damn,” Preston breathed. “Look, I’m sorry. You saved us, we owe you our lives and we didn’t mean to upset you. Here, this is the least we could do.”

Aaliyah blinked away the tears to see him offering her two small satchels; one was full of bottle caps and the other was full of fusion cells. “Why is it that everyone here keeps bottle caps?” she asked.

“Oh, right. Sorry again… caps are as good as money these days. If you find any of that old-world money it’s good for trading for this stuff, but this is the general fare.”

“Who’d have thought that what used to be garbage would be so valuable now?” she murmured. “Thank you, though, but I didn’t do it for money. I did it because I thought you guys deserved a chance.”

He gave her the first genuine smile she’d seen since they met. “I’m just used to everyone being in it for themselves. You remind me of my friends…the other Minutemen, the ones who gave their lives for something bigger than themselves.”

“I know what that’s like. My husband and I fought in the war. He was infantry, and I was in the air force.”

“Wow, you flew?” Sturges asked. “Damn, I wish I could’ve lived back then.”

“I did, I was in charge of a fighter jet. Every time I left base, I knew I could be flying out for the last time. I could be shot out of the sky, or I could have to sacrifice myself while I escorted someone. It changes you.”

“Come with us to Sanctuary,” Preston said suddenly. “We could use people like you.”

“Sanctuary? That’s my old home,” she smiled sadly. “What would you need me to do?”

Mama Murphy’s drawl cut through the silence, “You’d need to stay strong, like you’ve been. ‘Cause there’s more to your destiny. I’ve seen it, and I know your pain. You’re a woman out of time, out of hope… but all’s not lost. I can feel…your son’s energy. He’s alive.”

Aaliyah felt her blood run cold. This woman, she’d known about Nate, about Shaun. Could she really see things? Would she be able to tell her where her baby was?

“Where…where’s Shaun?” she asked shakily.

Mama Murphy shook her head sadly. “I wish I knew, kid. I really do. It’s not like I can see your son…I can just…feel his life force, his energy. He’s out there. So is someone else who’ll fill that void in your life, but he may seek to create it again if you don’t stop him. Pain and purpose are things you will need to find ways to put together. A heart of steel and flesh beats for you, but you just don’t know it yet.”

She simply stared, her mind fogged with sorrow but still trying to make sense of everything.

“Look, even I don’t need the Sight to tell you where to start lookin’. The great green jewel of the Commonwealth: Diamond City. It’s the biggest settlement around,” Mama Murphy explained. “I’m tired now, but if you wanna know more, you bring me some chems sometime. The Sight will paint a clearer picture.”

“No!” Preston interjected hurriedly. Until then, he and the others were silent, listening in an almost awestruck manner to the old woman’s musings. “Mama Murphy, we talked about this. That junk will kill you.”

Her protests fell on deaf ears as he shook his head disapprovingly. He turned to the scant group around him and adjusted his hat.

“All right folks, thanks to our friend here, it’s safe to move out. We’re headed to that place Mama Murphy told us about and that Aaliyah’s from. Sanctuary. It’s not far.”

The woman on the floor (Aaliyah vaguely remembered her name being Marcy) gave a loud scoff. “You mean she saw it when she was stoned out of her gourd? And we don’t even know this woman, what if she’s luring us into a trap?”

Preston raised his voice slightly in a retort, but Marcy cut him off. Sturges stepped forward from his perch near the wall and waved his hands between the two of them.

“Look, everyone calm down. We’re all in this together, right? Marcy, you got a better idea of what we should do next?”

The woman shot him a venomous glare, but remained silent. The man next to her seemed too focused staring at the broken floorboards between his feet than coming to her defense.

“Anybody? No? Well, Sanctuary it is.”

Aaliyah opened up the power armour and stepped back inside. Dogmeat trotted happily between the settlers as they gathered their belongings, seemingly pleased with his new contingent of potential ear-scratchers. It looked like her neighbourhood would be a ghost town no longer, and she was completely in favour of just a little more humanity finding its way back into her life. Things were changing quickly, and she only hoped to keep up.

 

           

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the you guys enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Our favourite tin-can man is making his debut appearance in Chapter 3, so stay tuned!


	3. Tread Not the Path of Least Restraint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you so much for the kudos and follows, I'm glad people are enjoying this fic thus far. This chapter's title is from 'Monochromatic Stains' by Dark Tranquility. Enter Paladin Danse!

A potent mixture of blood and sweat was running into Paladin Danse’s eyes as he reloaded his laser rifle. He blinked the stinging away, listening to Haylen behind him as she admonished Rhys for moving around too much as she dressed his wounds. Her words were punctuated by the growls and snarls of those infernal creatures all around them. He’d taken out quite a few of the ones that had come into the compound, but the noise was attracting more. They would be wandering around, looking for victims to butcher until they set eyes or ears on their squad. He wasn’t entirely sure how long they would last another wave of ghouls, but he’d be damned if he went down without a fight.

He could hear them getting closer. Hefting the rifle high enough to look through the iron-sights, his first shot took out the first ghoul around the corner. The problem was that they were fast. Inhumanly, disgustingly fast. They shambled with unnerving speed, sometimes falling over in the process. Even those that crumpled as they tried to rush them clawed their way across the floor with single-minded, deranged purpose. No fewer than a dozen ghouls had crowded around the police station.

This was it. This was the last stand.

He took ample care to keep the first, rushing abominations off of them. One sped past his shot, shambling with a devilish gait towards him, arms outstretched to kill. As it stumbled, his boot smashed in the melted skin of its face and it fell with a dull crunch. More were incoming, and if one could get through his suppressive fire so easily, they would be dead within the hour.

Danse vaguely registered a dog’s snarl through the chaos; his tunnel vision almost made it seem like it was happening in slow motion, but he saw a large German Shepard launch itself at one of the ghouls through the gate. It latched powerful jaws onto the creature’s leg and dragged it to the floor, then lunged for the pitted, gnarled throat. A gunshot joined the unraveling chaos, followed by a woman’s yell. Paladin Danse continued to dismantle the ghouls closest to his cohort, and watched as the dog moved away from its now unmoving quarry, apparently bidden by its unseen owner.

Moments passed by in a combat-muddled haze; simultaneously each kill seemed to take an eternity, yet be over within fractions of a second. As the last bodies it the floor, silence roared. The dog reappeared in the gateway, panting and looking back towards the woman who had come to their aid. In the melee, he hadn’t noticed when she came into the yard of the station to join them.

Out of breath as he was, he wasted no time in approaching their visitor. “Civilian, we appreciate the help, but what’s your business here?”

The woman checked her sidearm and slipped a new clip in. “I could ask you the same thing. Why is this police station looking like it was dropped into a warzone, and why are there men in power armour sending off distress signals?”

“I suggest you answer my question first if you want to remain in our compound.”

She looked him square in the eye. Piercing dark eyes shone cold and immovable in the firelight.

“I could just leave, you know. I came here out of goodwill when I picked up your message. With your man up there looking a bit worse for wear, I don’t think the three of you will last much longer,” she stated flatly. “You’re not really in a position to be demanding.”

Well, she had gumption, that was for sure. “Listen, as much as I wish we could have dealt with that ourselves, you rendered much needed assistance, but that doesn’t change the fact that we don’t know who you are or why you’re here. If I appear suspicious it’s because we’ve been under constant fire since we’ve come to the Commonwealth. We have a mandate to attend to, and I need to ascertain whether or not you’re a threat to that.”

“I’m only a threat to people who threaten me,” she said pointedly. She had an ever-so-slight hint of an accent; her voice was clear, a little monotone but somehow lilting with each word.

He wasn’t going to win this one. He’d have to extend the olive branch or shoot her, and the latter wasn’t a favourable option. Anyone who would willingly and skillfully take on so many ghouls could be the help they so sorely needed.

Sweat continued to drip into his eyes, and he allowed himself a small sigh. “I’m Paladin Danse, of the Brotherhood of Steel. Behind me are Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. We're on recon duty, but I’m a man down, and our supplies are low. That distress call was meant for our superiors, but the signal was too weak to reach them.”

“Sir, if I may?” Haylen’s voice called tentatively from the steps.

“Proceed, Haylen.”

“I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but the signal still isn’t strong enough. We need something to boost the signal.”

The Paladin gave her a curt nod and turned back to their visitor. “Our target is ArcJet Systems, and it contains the technology we need: the Deep Range Transmitter. We need to infiltrate the facility and bring it back here. So what do you say, are you willing to lend the Brotherhood of Steel a hand?”

“You’ll have to tell me what it is first,” the woman answered. “I’m not particularly up to date with a lot of things going on these days.”

“Our order seeks to understand the nature of technology,” he explained patiently. “Its power… its meaning to us as humans. We fight to secure that power from those who would abuse it.”

“Quite the cause,” she said. “My name is Aaliyah Bennett, by the way. I’d be happy to help.”

“Outstanding.”

Danse turned to face his remaining two soldiers. “Haylen, take Rhys inside and bind his wounds; Rhys, once you’re on your feet, I want you to make certain the perimeter is secure.”

Both nodded and chimed their assent.

He glanced at Aaliyah. “All right, civilian, it’s time to prove your worth. Head into the police station and resupply yourself. Let me know when you’re ready to move out.”

* * *

 

Rhys was glaring at their visitor hard enough to pop the blood vessels in his eyes, or so Haylen had chided him. The woman was seated across from them, cleaning her guns with her dog laid out at her feet. The wound at his side gave a twinge and he growled, causing her to look up slightly. He met her curious gaze with a leer.

She was a slight girl, probably just short of being five-three; she seemed young too. Dark hair was pulled back, with only a few snarling tendrils free to frame a small jawline. Her sharp features seemed foreign to these lands: high cheekbones mixed with an angular nose and delicate chin gave her an air that was striking for its oddness. Pigmented, dusky lips were set in concentration as she brushed out any dust that accumulated in her sidearm. Rhys scoffed, tearing his gaze away. She was so small, so unassuming it was ridiculous. If only  _he_ was fit enough to accompany the Paladin, the little interloper would have been sent packing by now. He closed his eyes and saw the waves of ghouls pouring in, and almost felt their nails and teeth digging into his arm and his side as they had hours earlier. The girl had faced the same and came out unscathed.

She didn’t look like a hero, but she didn’t look like the usual gun-for-hire scum either, and that was pissing him off on some level. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. Anyone not in the Brotherhood was automatically suspicious, but there was something especially offensive about an unassuming girl coming in here and making him seem inadequate.

She met his gaze again and he scowled. “What d’you think, you’re some kind of hot-shot? You’re just another hired thug, going after anyone who’d pay you.”

She answered him with a wry smile. “Geez, don’t be afraid to tell me how you really feel.”

“Just get the job done and get lost. You’re hired help and that’s it. We don’t need a civilian slowing us down.”

She got up from her perch and stretched lightly. “ _You_ seem to be slowing your squadron down, just saying.”  
  
“You little-“  
  
“Rhys, come on,” Haylen chimed in. “Leave her be.”

Danse’s voice called out from the doorway. “Knight, I expected better from you. She’s one of the reasons we’re all still alive at this point.”

“Apologies, Paladin,” Rhys ground out the phrase through gritted teeth. Their leader had taken off the heavy power armour, yet his figure remained imposing. Rhys was by no means small, even by the Brother of Steel’s infantry standards, but Danse was a positively massive man.  
  
“And you,” he rounded on their visitor. “I’d thank you not to bait my men. If you’re going to stay here, let it be as amicable as possible. Knight Rhys was injured in the line of duty and there is nothing but honour in that.”

She put her hands up in mock surrender. “I won’t bait him if he won’t bait me.”

Rhys gave another audible scoff and got a warning glare in response from the Paladin.

“In any case,” he looked down at Aaliyah, still stern. “I’d like to have a few words with you so we can get a good gauge of where we stand before tomorrow's action. We’re moving out first thing in the morning.”

Rhys watched the woman leave and took a swig of water to wash away the bitter taste she’d left in his mouth.

* * *

 

Aaliyah followed the Paladin to the front of the station and watched as he leaned against the tall counter that once served as the clerk’s desk.

“Before we head out together, I need to know more about your background with combat, your strengths and all of the relevant details,” he said frankly. “We can’t hope to be effective if we’re both running around blind.”

“Okay,” she answered. “You first.”

He gave a sigh. “Is there any reason that you’re being difficult?”

She shrugged and hopped onto the desk. It was much easier than craning her neck to look at him. The man was easily a foot taller than she was.

“I’m a bit suspicious of just spilling everything to strangers, given the general climate,” she explained. “Besides, it’s only polite that you go first.”

The fleeting look of frustration was quickly hidden behind a businesslike front. “Fine, if it makes you feel more comfortable, but you don’t have anything to worry about with me. As you know, I’m a Paladin within the Brotherhood of Steel. I’ve got about more than a decade of combat experience, mostly in the infantry. I can shoot essentially anything, but obviously given the nature of the Brotherhood, energy weapons are most preferred. I’m a certified vertibird pilot, but that probably won’t be of any use to us here.”

She realised that he’d paused because it was her turn. Aaliyah combed a hand warily through her unruly ponytail.

“I’m…from Vault 111,” she said slowly.  
  
“A Vault dweller? Not a lot of people would admit to that.”

“Well, there’s more, so hold on to your power armour,” she said, smiling weakly. “I was in the air force. I was a airman first class in the United States Air Force, to be exact.”  
  
“But that was-“

“Two hundred odd years ago? I know. I served in the Sino-American War, and my husband, son and I were alive when the bombs fell. We took refuge in the Vault and were frozen using cryogenics. I woke up about a month ago, and I’ve been wandering around since. I’m good with guns, energy weapons aren’t my thing, but I know how to use them, and I can fly too. Actually, I’m pretty damn good at flying,” she gave a small, wry smile.

The Paladin looked rather floored; he cleared his throat and met her gaze again. “And what happened to your family?”

“My husband is dead. My son is missing. He’s why I’m wandering around this place. I need to know where he is.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you’d been through so much. I thought it odd that you were so proficient with that firearm, but I would never have guessed that you were a soldier before the bombs.”

“I’m hoping after we find this transmitter, your Brotherhood friends can help me find my boy. He’s all I really have left,” Aaliyah willed herself to keep it together, and gave a chuckle that surprised the Paladin. “Well, not exactly. I do have a robot butler that’ll probably be losing his mechanical mind over me being gone for so long.”

“It was yours during the war?”

“Yes, Codsworth is his name. Nate, my husband got him when I was pregnant. He figured extra help would be in order,” she explained. “He somehow managed to survive everything, and was still at the remains of my old house. I’ve got some folks that I’m helping out back there, so he stayed behind to look after them.”

“You talk about it like it’s a person,” Danse remarked.  
  
“He is to me, honestly,” she said. “You mightn’t get it, but you haven’t met him. Anyway,” she looked away, blinking away the miniscule tears that had welled up. Danse didn’t seem to notice. “Is that sufficient as far as knowledge of my abilities? I’ve got good aim, I know how to fly things and I’ve been made battle-ready.”

“Yes, it is. And I appreciate the honesty. I suggest you get some rest; there is a tank of water up in the locker rooms if you want to clean up. I’m afraid they haven’t been able to power the water pump as of yet, but Haylen tells me that she’s working on it.”

“Thank you.”

Danse watched her slide off of the counter and walk into the next room, feeling almost completely thrown for a loop. He saw the insubordination, the chattiness, the ease at which she handled herself in combat and contrasted that with the girl he’d just seen talking about a family she’d had two hundred years ago. The Commonwealth was full of things that just didn’t make any goddamn sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter went over well! I made Rhys a bit of a jerkface with a touch of latent misogyny, mostly because I don't like him, and I felt as though his soldierly persona would benefit from a superiority complex xD  
> This chapter took quite a while to write, but I'm reasonably happy with how it turned out. Stay tuned for more!


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